In the fifth month, and after a great deal of hard persuasion, I decided on attempting to take a daily Bible Class. As the 8.0 morning drum sounded and I made my way to the church, my nerve powers fell below zero, and I felt decidedly limp. The words “Who hath made man’s mouth; I will be with thy mouth” pulled me together a bit, and I hurried in to my class to find between twenty and thirty women waiting for their teacher. Talking for one whole hour was a terrible tax on my vocabulary, and must have been even a greater tax on the endurance of the class. I was quite done when they were in a questioning mood; it would have been bad enough if there had been no foreign language to understand. The very first morning they asked me about Michael disputing with Satan over the body of Moses! It is rather surprising to find that such simple people possess so advanced a form of etymology. The parts of speech and general construction in a broad sense resemble the other dialects of the Bantu class, but the verbs are very complex and more technically developed than its offsprings, Luganda and Swahili. All our English tenses are employed besides several others met with in Greek. Most of these effect a complete change in the relative form. Verbs practically dominate all the other parts of speech; the nouns, with very few exceptions, are their parasites. A few straggling prefixes tacked on to the verb root are the only attempts the nouns make toward an individuality of their own. Adverbs and prepositions are rarely granted an independent existence. They add to the corpulence of the verb by being absorbed in it. The perfect harmony between nouns, adjectives, and verbs is a veritable man-trap, for a native will rarely understand a discord, however untutored he may be. Besides grammar and pronunciation, there are two other important things to study—the proverbs, and the mode of expressing ideas. The Batoro are not quite so versed in the metaphorical form of speech as the Baganda, who are capable of carrying on a lengthy conversation in the most mystical and involved proverbs, only quoting the first two or three words of each, and quite expecting you to imagine the rest. I trembled literally when this was first told me, for I had never been able to get beyond “never too late to mend” in English proverbs. But Lunyoro is really kinder in this respect. They do, however, exist in spasmodic forms. If you want to really win the love and confidence of the people you have to make a regular business of learning their catch expressions and idioms, and dropping completely the habit of translating English into Lunyoro, then they will confer on you their highest degree “Oli Mutoro,” “you are a native of Toro.”